Intertwine
by mouserat
Summary: Grey's Anatomy AU. Killian Jones is fresh out of med school and beginning his surgical residency at the prestigious Storybrooke General Hospital. After years of studying, he thought he knew what to expect, but nothing prepared him for Dr. Emma Swan.
1. Chapter 1

A loud, obnoxious ring filled the dim room, interrupting the peaceful silence of the house. Killian groaned, reluctantly cracking an eye open, glancing blearily at the glaring bright numbers on the clock. Four o'clock AM.

Killian sighed, slamming his hand down on the clock to bring an end to the annoying, blaring alarm. Damn bloody work schedule. Why his shift started so godforsaken early, Killian had no idea. He forced himself out of bed, stumbling on his way to the shower like an inebriated zombie, practically falling over his own feet and tripping over the raised floorboards of his ratty abode, gripping onto the splintered walls for support. Killian hissed in pain as the sharp wood pricked his skin and thoroughly cursed the home for what seemed like the millionth time, once again reminiscing back on the beautiful dorm rooms that Princeton provided. Growing up in a tiny, poor part of the UK, Killian had never been acquired to lavish and sophisticated settings. However, once he received a full ride to Princeton University and settled into their prestigious buildings, he had gotten too used to warm running water and air conditioning. The interior of Princeton's dormitories may have met America's standards, but to Killian, who grew up sleeping on a mattress without a bedframe and four wool blankets instead of crisp sheets, it was paradise. As soon as he moved in, he had vowed to never take it for granted. It seemed he had gone back on his promise.

Fresh out of medical school, Killian had moved to Maine to begin his surgical residency, and was therefore required to become a homeowner. Broke and penniless, Killian searched for the cheapest house in the area, and was stuck with a creaky, two-story building that was tucked cozily in the corner of town. It was a small home, cramped and unimpressive, but it was all Killian could afford. Well, all Killian's mother could afford. Since he technically went to college for free, all the money his mother had been saving for his education went toward this dump ("don't call it that, Killian! It's a lovely home."), and once that money ran out, it was up to Killian himself to pay for the four-walled shelter. Surgical residency didn't pay much, and with that in mind, Killian let out a defeated groan and made a mental note to not use much of the hot water this morning.  
>He was positively exhausted. He had stayed up all last night reviewing and studying each and every medical term and situation he could think of, hoping to be prepared for his first day of work. Granted, he was just out of med school and his brain was already filled to the brim with medical jargon and information, but he wanted to make sure he was fresh and ready once he began his intern year.<p>

Killian had landed his dream job, becoming a surgical intern for the prestigious and well-known Storybrooke General Hospital, the number four teaching hospital in the country. Graduating summa cum laude from Princeton, Killian knew his chances of getting employed at a good hospital were high, but nevertheless, when he was accepted into Storybrooke General, he almost whooped with joy. Okay, he did whoop. But when one is accepted into one of the most selective and difficult hospitals in the United States, some whooping is very much acceptable.

Located in a quaint little town in Maine, Storybrooke General was filled with famous and legendary doctors, attracting many students in the medical community. Some people from the next town over would even drive the extra mile just to come to SGH for the best care; others would even fly from across the country.

Killian wished his brother were still around to see this. He would have cheered with him, thrown him over his shoulder, and shouted from the rooftops of Killian's achievement. They would have gone on a special sailing trip, counting the stars and tracing constellations with their fingertips, and Liam would have said that Killian would become a famous and extraordinary surgeon, and _just you wait, brother, you're going to prove everyone wrong_. Images of Liam's kind and generous smile swam behind Killian's eyelids, his brother's laugh booming in his ears, and Killian's heart constricted painfully at the memory. The all too familiar agony began to rush through Killian's veins, igniting his bones and awaking the anxiety buried deep beneath his calm façade. _No, _Killian thought angrily, desperation humming in his bones. _The nightmares have just stopped. I can't think about it again, not today._

Killian furiously banished the torturous recollections from his mind, jumping in the shower with determination, the hot water scalding his skin and thoroughly waking him up. He had to be on the top of his game today – no distractions. Nostalgia had no place in Killian's schedule today. If he wanted to complete his surgical residency at Storybrooke General, he had to be one of the best, and Killian was willing to put in his all. Besides, he did love a challenge.

As droplets of water slid down his skin in a calming rhythm, Killian ran through notable diseases and their symptoms in his head. He had no idea what to expect on his first day – he could be writing charts, copying down post-op notes, trailing residents, or (gods could only hope) scrubbing in on a surgery. The mere idea of an O.R. caused endorphins to rush to his brain, a smile breaking out across his features as he dug his shampoo soaked digits into his black roots. He knew he had to be realistic, but he couldn't help his mind from wandering. He had heard rumors of solo surgeries, residents allowing first day interns to scrub in, and generous attendings giving operating advice. After all, Storybrooke General was a teaching hospital, and although he knew they were strict, they had to impart their knowledge somehow. Killian finished his shower quickly, the images of scalpels and clamps running in a loop inside his head.

Killian rushed through his morning routine, anxious to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Elation buzzed through his veins as he raced down the freeway, his heart thrumming faster with each tip of the speedometer. The gorgeous east coast greenery whizzed past his car window, creating beautiful patterns and designs in Killian's peripheral vision. He was moments from the hospital, moments from the beginning of the rest of his life.

As he pulled into a space in the parking lot, Killian marveled at the large, pristine building in front of him. Morning sunlight glinted off the glass windows, forming a tantalizing and enchanting decoration against the towering hospital, and employees were rushing through the automatic double doors, chatting contentedly with warm cups of coffee in their hands. Killian pulled his keys out of the ignition, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his leather-clad shoulder, trying to appear as calm and casual as possible as he made his way to the entrance of SGH.

Orientation was a few days ago, so Killian had already toured the hospital with a bunch of other interns, but nevertheless, the interior never failed to amaze him. It almost didn't seem real, with its perfectly scrubbed, glistening white floors, tall winding staircases connecting different floors to another, and numerous potted plants decorating the entrance. The elevator dings wove together to form an uneven rhythm, paired with the hurried shuffling of doctors and the anxious and worried footsteps of patients' families. The sounds danced through Killian's eardrums, and he continued to gaze at his surroundings, taking into account a delicious smelling coffee cart nearby. He was tempted to grab a cup, but thought better of it.

Killian attempted to snap out of his reverie. If he kept admiring the atmosphere, he would never make it to the intern locker room and get started on real surgical work. Remembering the tour guide's instructions, Killian made his way to the elevators, his boots clicking against the floor. After pressing the button that led to the surgical level, he glanced around the cramped space, taking inventory. Some people looked stressed out, pouring over charts and folders and muttering to themselves, while others chatted mindlessly, laughing and trading ridiculous case stories. Killian wondered which ones were surgeons, and if any were interns like himself. Some of them weren't dressed in their medical attire yet, having just arrived, while others were clad in different colored scrubs. He assumed different colors meant different occupations, and he wondered which ones the surgical interns received.

Once the elevator arrived at the surgical floor, Killian headed over the intern locker room, and was met with a little less than two dozen interns, slamming metal doors, whirring locks, and changing into light blue scrubs. If it didn't feel real before, it certainly did now.

Killian scanned the locker doors, weaving through the crowd once he spotted an unlocked locker with a large scrap of tape with _Jones _written on it in thick black marker. He opened the door, and inside was a piece of paper with his combination number and a folded pair of light blue scrubs. Killian slid his backpack off his shoulder and began to shrug off his jacket, accidentally hitting someone in the forearm.

"Sorry," Killian muttered an apology to the body next to him, barely giving the other intern another glance.

"S'alright, mate," a thick, Derby accent responded. After a pause, the stranger continued with, "The name's Will. Will Scarlet."

Pulling his sneakers out of his backpack, Killian met the gaze of the tan stranger in front of him.

"Killian Jones," he introduced.

"Know who your resident is yet?" Will asked, pulling his cloth shirt over his head and running a hand through his buzzcut. He had a certain air around him that screamed "troublemaker", which Killian could relate to. His own brooding features and sarcastic manner had often gotten Killian himself labeled as a rogue, which Killian wore with pride. Here, however, Killian needed to prove to everyone that although he was quite the dashing rapscallion, he was also a responsible surgeon who could kick arse in the O.R. Will was competition, and although friends would be nice, Killian wasn't at SGH to become anyone's partner.

Killian shook his head in response, and Will replied, "Me neither. Hope we don't get a dud."

"I just want someone who will let us see the inside of an O.R.," a brunette girl chimed in next to them. She had big, wide eyes and clear, pale skin, and her soft tresses curled gently around her face. Pulling her hair up into a ponytail, she fixed the two with a calculating gaze. "If I'm stuck with a resident who'll make me chart all day, I'm going to request a change."

Killian rolled his eyes and snorted. "I don't really think you have control of that, lass."

"Yeah, Ruby, I wouldn't worry," a muscular man with scruff added, slamming his locker door shut. "We have to scrub in sometime."

"Whatever," Ruby grumbled. Will and Killian fixed her with odd gazes, and she snapped back, "I'm not a bitch, I'm just not a morning person, okay?"

"Picked the wrong job, haven't yeh?" Will snickered, and Killian grinned in response. Maybe this guy wasn't so bad – he had a sense of humor, which was something Killian could appreciate. Before Ruby could shoot back a retort, a loud voice rang through the room.

"Hood, Lucas, Scarlet, and Jones?"

The four of them jumped up and rushed over to the gentleman who had called their names. They hurriedly began straightening themselves and attempted to look as professional as possible, standing stock-still and at the ready at the doctor in front of them. The man hardly gave them a second glance.

"You four are Dr. Swan's interns. Come with me," he ordered in a bored tone. Not that Killian could blame him. Being in charge of roll call for a bunch of interns was probably not on the top of this bloke's priority list.

The four of them were led out of the locker room and into the main hall of the hospital. They followed dutifully as the man headed over to a woman who had her back turned to them and was chatting with a nurse behind the counter. The woman's long blonde hair fell in gorgeous curls down her back, and Killian was reminded by all the tales of the sea that his brother would recite to him in order to get Killian to fall asleep when he was younger, specifically the one about the mermaids.

"Dr. Swan?" The man said to the blonde, and she turned to face him.

The sight of her snatched Killian's breath straight out of his lungs. She was beautiful, positively stunning, with bright emerald green eyes and hypnotizing rosy lips. A few freckles were scattered across her soft cheeks like constellations, and Killian ached to trace patterns across her skin. Her long, inky black eyelashes fluttered as she focused her attention on the man holding the clipboard in front of them.

Killian's heart pounded an uneven rhythm in his chest, and the thoughts of enchanting mermaids were replaced with memories of hypnotizing sirens, for surely this woman would be the death of him. Not only was her beauty enchanting, but her demeanor was unique and powerful – she held a certain air around her, one full of determination, passion, and mystery. She was intoxicating and mesmerizing, and Killian wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse that she was his assigned resident.

"Your interns," the man informed her, motioning toward the four of them, handing her the clipboard. She thanked him and he hurried off, most likely to achieve something more exciting than watching a bunch of surgical interns make fools out of themselves.

Dr. Swan gave Ruby, Will, Killian, and Robin an inscrutable scan before pulling out a pair of glasses from her pocket. Killian gulped, his fingers twisting into fists and his stomach knotting. Her glasses only magnified her jewel-rimmed irises, and Killian prayed to the gods that he didn't appear a lovesick fool.

Dr. Swan lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow as she scanned the sheet in front of her.

"Hood, Robin?" She called out. Robin raised his hand, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment as the three others snickered.

"Shut up," Dr. Swan ordered, and Killian, Will, and Ruby immediately silenced. Dr. Swan stared at Robin with an unamused expression on her face. "Is this some kind of joke, are you trying to be funny?" She suggested. "Or did your parents just hate you?"

"My family thinks they're clever, ma'am," Robin answered nervously, causing the corner of Killian's lip to twitch upward.

Dr. Swan returned her attention back to the clipboard. "Lucas, Ruby?"

"Here!" Ruby chirped.

Dr. Swan didn't even raise her eyes at Ruby's voice, instead moving on to the next name. "Scarlet, Will?" She called out.

"Present," responded Will. "And might I just say that I'm bloody excited to be here, don't expect any fussin' from me, anyfink ya need jus' lemme know –" Will ceased his monologue at the deadpan look on Dr. Swan's face.

"Are you done?" Dr. Swan demanded more than asked, and Will nodded. "Jones, Killian?" Dr. Swan continued her roll call.

Killian's heart pounded in his ears; the way his name rolled off her perfect tongue and through her delicious pink lips tied his stomach in knots that had nothing to do with first day jitters. He attempted to regain his composure and confidence, cocking an eyebrow and standing tall. Killian Jones had mastered the art of portraying a self-assured demeanor, no matter how together or uneasy he may be on the inside – a talent he was quite proud of.

"Here," Killian smirked as he met her beautiful green eyes. "And might _I _just say, I'm very much looking forward to working with _you._" Killian took a couple steps closer to her, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

Dr. Swan narrowed her eyes. "Let's get this straight, you do not work _with _me, you work _for _me," she berated him, only to receive a flirtatious grin in response. She was strong, sharp, and intense, which were qualities he quite admired in a woman.

"Second," she continued, switching her attention to the rest of the interns. "Don't even try sucking up. I find it annoying and it won't work anyway," she snapped. Dr. Swan gestured to the two booklets and the small devices on the counter next to her and stated, "Trauma protocol and phone list, memorize them. These are your pagers, you answer every page at a run," she instructed, turning and walking away. Killian, Ruby, Will, and Robin scrambled, stuffing the pamphlets in their pockets and grabbing their pagers before rushing after Dr. Swan as she continued to order them around from over her shoulder.

"Your first shift starts now and lasts forty-eight hours," she informed them. "You are interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain. You run labs, write orders, work every second night until you drop, and don't complain or I will make sure you regret it," she threatened.

"Real charmer, innit she?" Will muttered, fumbling as he tried to clip his pager on his white coat.

Dr. Swan came to a standstill and turned to the four of them, who stumbled and bumped into each other at the abrupt stop.

"I don't have to be charming, Scarlet, I just have to make sure I get my work done, as do you," Dr. Swan barked. "Understand?"

Will's cheeks turned as bright as his namesake as he stuttered an agreement. Dr. Swan glared at him a second more before spinning on her heel and resuming her fast paced march, her curly blonde hair flying behind her as she turned. Killian was hit with a wave of lavender and honeysuckle that momentarily dazed him, her intoxicating scent wafting through his nostrils and muddling his brain.

Ruby nudged him painfully in the side. "C'mon, lover boy," she snickered as she hurried after Dr. Swan with the others.

"I'm not –" Killian spluttered, rushing after her. He had to get it together. He couldn't afford his reputation being ruined over a small crush on his superior. He was first and foremost a surgeon – that had been his dream, his goal, since he was a child. It was his passion, and he wouldn't give it up for some earth-shatteringly gorgeous resident, no matter how hypnotizing she might be.

Dr. Swan led them through the hospital, snapping information about on-call rooms, patient protocol, and scheduling. The four of them scribbled furiously on notepads, hanging onto every precious word that slipped out of her pearly white teeth as she marched through the hospital. Finally, Dr. Swan came to a stop in front of two large double doors.

"I'm sure you're all familiar with your teachers telling you that you all start out with A's at the beginning of your courses?" Dr. Swan said, looking at them expectedly. They nodded in response. "Well, with me, you all start out with F's," she stated bluntly. "It is your job to prove not only to me, but to this entire hospital and to any patient that comes in here that you have what it takes and are more than capable of becoming a doctor."

Dr. Swan glared at them intensely, her green eyes flashing, and Killian couldn't help but smile.

"I do enjoy a challenge," he remarked with a sly grin.

Dr. Swan focused her attention on him, and his insides began to perform gymnastics.

"It seems that you've come to the right place, then," she commented, pushing open the doors with purpose.

Killian, Ruby, Will, and Robin's jaws dropped at the scene laid out before them. Dozens of doctors were rushing around frantically, barking orders and requesting numerous medical tests. Shouting and distraught footsteps against the linoleum floor came together in a rhythmic symphony pleasing to any medical technician. And there was blood… so much blood. Patients were crying, being wheeled quickly away to different trauma rooms and being hid behind curtains to be examined. There were a few individuals clutching their own appendages, which were oddly bent, and ambulance sirens could be heard with each opening of the automatic doors on the other side of the large room, along with monitors beeping at every corner. It was…

"Awesome," Ruby whispered, marveling at the sight and voicing the others' thoughts.

"Welcome to the E.R.," Dr. Swan said. "There was a massive bus crash, and it's all hands on deck. Normally I'd have first day interns doing charts, but today's your lucky day."

_Indeed, _Killian thought gleefully. His first day on the job and already there were trauma cases being thrown at him – talk about a dream come true. People weren't exaggerating when they said Storybrooke General was the place to be for a surgeon.

"Follow my every order, you understand? One foot out of line, and I'll make sure you're cut from this program," Dr. Swan threatened. The interns nodded furiously, eager to dive in. Pushing her glasses up her nose, Dr. Swan shouted, "Okay, people, let's move!"

Dr. Swan broke into a sprint, the four of them running after her with anticipation. Killian's heart was slamming against his ribs, and every single part of him felt like it was on fire. There was so much going on, and Killian didn't know where Dr. Swan was going to make them start – there were broken bones, third-degree burns, deep slashes, and more. It was an injury circus, and Killian was completely entranced.

"Best first day ever," Robin mumbled to Killian.

"Tell me about it." Killian tried to suppress a grin as he drank in the atmosphere around him. Many others would view screaming people with bloody tearstreaks running down their faces as horrifying, but to Killian, it was an adventure.

"Swan!" A pretty Asian woman with long, dark hair jogged up to Dr. Swan. She was wearing dark blue scrubs in contrast with Dr. Swan's light blue attire, signaling her as an attending rather than a resident. "These your interns?" She inquired, out of breath.

"Yeah, they're with me today. What've you got?" Dr. Swan responded.

"I have a guy with his leg completely cut off and two patients connected by a pole. I know you'd rather your interns stay with you, but I'm gonna need a couple to help me with this case," the attending informed, tying up her hair in a loose bun, smooth tendrils falling around her round face.

Dr. Swan turned and faced the four of them, who all shot up their hands immediately, begging to be chosen to assist. Dr. Swan eyed them quickly and then said, "Jones, Scarlet, go with Dr. Chung here. Lucas, you're with me. Hood, go to the unattended patients that need suturing and fix them up."

Excitement bloomed in Killian's chest at the opportunity, and he rushed after Dr. Chung as she motioned him and Will to follow her. His first day and he was already working on a high profile trauma case, something practically unheard of. He had heard amazing reviews about this program, but he never expected this.

"Wait for me in trauma room one over there," Dr. Chung instructed, pointing to the destination and ripping Killian from his thoughts. "I'll be in there in a moment."

Killian and Will nodded obediently, heading over across the room. Killian spotted Ruby and Dr. Swan rushing toward two paramedics; one pushing a man on a gurney, the other holding half of a leg.

"Oi, mate," Killian nudged Will. "Look."

Will's eyes widened as he spotted the trauma. "Bloody hell."

Once Dr. Swan and Ruby reached the paramedics, they began reporting his stats, and Killian and Will listened in intently, curiosity getting the better of them.

"Pressure drainings applied, two large bore IVs started," the paramedic pushing the gurney explained.

"Anything for the pain?" Dr. Swan asked.

"Base ordered morphine, five migs given so far," he answered, handing the patient over to Dr. Swan.

She turned to Ruby and ordered, "Rule out any other injuries and book an O.R., now."

Ruby nodded and sprinted off, grinning mischievously at Will and Killian as she passed. "I got a leg, suckers," she boasted.

"Aye?" Killian cocked an eyebrow, trying to mask his jealousy. After all, he _did _have the better case, but still – surgeons were a selfish people when it came to operating. In a perfect world, Killian would have both cases andan extra long lunch break, but for now, he was a surgical intern that had to deal with what he was given.

"Well, we have two people stuck together on a pole, I think that trumps a decapitated leg," Killian remarked.

"At least we're not doing sutures like Hood," Will snickered loudly, purposely so Robin could hear. Robin glared from his spot at a patient's bedside.

"Lucas, what the hell are you doing? Move your ass!" Dr. Swan shouted. Ruby ran off, blushing with embarrassment. "Killian, Will, Dr. Chung is your attending and she instructed you to wait in trauma room one. Get out of the way!" Dr. Swan chastised.

"Whoa!" Robin exclaimed, eyes locked on a patient being wheeled by. "Is that a pneumothorax? Sweet. Can I get the pneumothorax?" Robin begged Dr. Swan, who was still hastily attending to her amputee.

"If you think on your first day you are going to tend to a pneumothorax by yourself, you're delusional. Focus on your sutures!" Dr. Swan ordered.

"Yeah, Martha Stewart." Will smirked. "Keep sewing," he teased.

"Hey!" Dr. Swan snapped, furiously glaring at the two of them. "What did I just say? Get into trauma room one!"

Killian and Will obediently ran into the room, Dr. Chung rushing in moments later.

"Holy shit," Killian muttered, eyes widening at the sight.

Two patients, a female in her twenties and a male in his forties, were sitting, facing each other. A long metal pole was holding the two together, piercing them through their abdomens. Killian had never seen anything like it; he was shocked that the two of them were even conscious and able to speak.

"Page Dr. French," Dr. Chung instructed another attending who followed her into the room.

The attending nodded and glanced at the Will and Killian. "Whose are these?" She barked, grabbing a stethoscope. A twinge of annoyance ran through Killian's veins at her tone, and Will's eyebrows furrowed. It was one thing to be strict, quite another to not even refer to them as human beings.

"Emma's new interns," Dr. Chung answered, rushing around the room. "I need all the help I can get."

_Emma. _That was her name. Emma Swan… Killian ached to say it out loud, the letters tasting sweet in his mouth.

"And you picked first day, inexperienced interns?" She scoffed. "Are you trying to kill these people?" She muttered.

"What?" The woman squeaked.

"She's joking," Dr. Chung assured the patient, shooting the other attending a glare. "They're qualified, don't worry. We're going to do everything we can to make sure you two get out of this."

Killian eyed the attending, freezing once he caught sight of the name sewn in curvy script onto her white coat. He was standing in the same room as Dr. Regina Mills, one of the best cardiothoracic surgeons in the country. He had read countless articles about her and her work; her clinical trials were amazing, her success rate incredibly high. She was a legend; the idea that he was even in her presence was enough to shock him into silence, something not easily done.

"Um," the woman timidly spoke up. "I don't mean to be rude, but is there a chance you could get us out of this anytime soon?" She offered them a shaky smile, and Killian admired her bravery.

"Yeah, it's a tad uncomfortable," the man joked, attempting to sound lighthearted while the woman gave a small giggle in response.

Dr. Chung gave the two a soft smile. "We're going to work as fast as possible and do everything in our power to make sure you two make it out."

"Just stay calm and don't move too much, alright?" Dr. Mills instructed gently.

"Well," the woman began. "Since we'll probably be here a while, I guess we should be on a first name basis. I'm Abigail Griffith."

"Kurt Flynn," the man added.

"Abigail, Kurt," Dr. Mills addressed them. "I'm Dr. Regina Mills, and this is Dr. Mulan Chung –"

"Oh, like the princess!" Abigail exclaimed. Mulan gave her a forced smile, which caused Abigail to add, "Oh, sorry. You probably get that a lot. Kind of annoying."

Mulan shook her head. "It's okay. Abigail, Kurt, this is Dr. Killian Jones and Dr. Will Scarlet. They are our new surgical interns and will be helping us out with your case."

"Bet you don't see this every day," Kurt remarked to Will and Killian, turning his head as far as it would allow, which was only a couple centimeters.

"No, sir," Will responded.

"Miss Griffith, Mr. Flynn, is there anyone we can call?" Dr. Mills asked.

"They called my fiancé, Frederick, from the ambulance. He's headed down from Lewiston," Abigail answered.

"My wife and kids were called and are on their way as well," Kurt added.

"Great," Dr. Mills responded. "Hold still, please."

After examination and x-rays, Dr. Chung ordered Will to get labs on the patients, while she, Killian, and Dr. Mills headed to meet with a neurosurgeon to take a look at the x-rays. Adrenaline was still pumping through Killian's veins, igniting his whole body. Being a real time surgeon was incredible; he never experienced this in med school, and although he had heard and read many stories and articles, he never thought these things would happen to him. Two people connected by a pole? He couldn't make that up if he tried.

When they reached the examination room, they were greeted by the sight of a pretty brunette, curly hair pulled up in a ponytail, her blue eyes heavily focused on examining x-rays with Emma.

"I thought you were handling the leg case," Dr. Chung remarked to Emma.

"I requested Emma to assist on this one, since she has a knack for trauma and this case is so severe," the attending informed Mulan, who nodded in understanding.

"David and Ingrid are dealing with the amputee," Emma informed.

"Holy god." Dr. Mills ran a hand through her shoulder length black hair, big brown eyes widening at the x-rays hung up on the projector.

"Yep," Emma sighed. "The pole's tamponading the wound and –"

"It's hitting her aorta," Dr. Mills muttered. "It's also right in line with his inferior vena cava."

"Her spine is completely severed," the brunette attending added. Killian glanced at her white coat, which informed him that she was Dr. Belle French, Head of Neurosurgery. Killian had also heard about her – she was the most talented neurosurgeons in the country, and another living legend. Killian's throat went dry, the pressure of working with such famous and skilled surgeons causing his fingers to shake with a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

"The pole has gone straight through, her T8 is crushed," Dr. French sighed. "Are we getting labs done?"

"Scarlet is handling those," Dr. Chung informed.

"Good, we won't be able to do anything until we get all the information about what's going on internally," Emma commented.

"What were their stats when they first came in?" Dr. French asked.

"His B.P. was holding steady, 90 over palp, and still is, at least last time we checked. So far she's had two hypotensive episodes in the low 70s," Dr. Chung informed. "Her vitals are erratic and her pulse is weak."

"Did they bolus her fluids?" Belle inquired, earning a nod from Mulan in response.

"They're never gonna fit into a C.T." Emma sighed, eyebrows furrowed.

Killian studied the x-rays that were pinned up on the board with concern. It was absolutely horrifying – the fact that the two were still alive was shocking to him, and he could barely begin to imagine how much pain they were in. Their internal injuries were severe and extensive, and Killian suspected that massive hemorrhaging would occur in the O.R. if they decided to operate.

Suddenly, Will burst through the door, out of breath and holding a packet full of papers. All eyes turned to him as he panted, "Lab results."

Dr. Swan thanked Will and took the results, the other attendings circling around her as they all examined the labs. Will hesitantly walked over to Killian.

"How's it going, mate?" Will whispered.

"Not so well," Killian replied in an equally low tone. "Their injuries are incredibly extensive, I've never seen anything like it. I don't know if it can get much worse."

"It seems that it can," Regina commented, having overheard their conversation, and Killian's heart sunk at her proclamation.

"We need to find a way to get them off that pole," Emma spoke up.

"We can't get a saw to separate them, not without moving them," Dr. Chung commented.

"Which would be a very bad idea," Regina sighed.

"If we remove the pole, they'll both bleed out." Dr. Chung nodded.

Killian's mind raced, running through every scenario he could think of that would be able to save the two of them. It suddenly hit him, and the answer spilled out of his lips.

"What if we don't move the pole?" He suggested. Five sets of eyes turned to him, expectant and a bit surprised. "What if we move one of the patients off the pole to get the saw in there?"

Emma's eyes widened, sparkling at the idea. "We can hold the pole steady with the other one, move very slowly, and repair the damage as we go," she exclaimed.

Killian felt a surge of pride at the acceptance of his suggestion, but it was slightly diminished with the words that softly fell out of Will's mouth.

"But…" he began. "Who would you move?"

A painful and excruciating silence fell throughout the entire room at the question. Visions of the two blood covered patients consumed Killian's thoughts; one of them was a young woman, about to be married with her whole life ahead of her, and the other was a married man with children. Both were human beings, both were good people who deserved to live. And even if they weren't… as doctors, it was their job to save each and every patient who needed help, and the thought that one of those people wouldn't be able to survive… it was heartbreaking.

Dr. Mills finally broke the quiet, stating, "With her aortic injuries, her chances of surviving are very slim, no matter what we do." A morbid pause filled the space, and after a moment Regina quietly added, "If we move her we have a real shot of saving him."

"Well, I could argue that since her injuries are more extensive we should move him," Belle commented. "Give her the best shot we can."

Killian felt bile in the back of his throat as understanding began to register. "So…" he swallowed uncomfortably. "Basically, whoever you move doesn't stand a chance." He looked at the four doctors standing in front of him, sad and almost pitiful looks on their faces.

"How do you choose?" Killian whispered. "How do you decide who gets to live?"

The doctors gazed at each other, a silent conversation passing between them. Killian didn't realize he was holding his breath until Dr. Swan spoke up, sadly resigned.

"He…" Emma broke off, almost unable to go on. "He has the best chance." Emma looked deep into Killian's eyes, attempting to hide her anguish, but Killian could read her like an open book, and the answer put a heavy weight on his chest.

"We have to give him his best chance," Emma concluded.

* * *

><p>"The reason your bodies are preventing you from feeling the pain from the extent of your injuries is due to the fact that your bodies are still in a certain amount of shock," Dr. French explained. Abigail and Kurt studied her intently, worry decorating their scarred features.<p>

Regina swallowed, attempting to compose herself, and addressed Abigail in a serious tone. "In order to operate on Mr. Flynn, we need to separate you two," she informed her. Abigail nodded in understanding, and Dr. Mills continued with a deep breath. "In order to do that, we need to move you backwards off the pole."

"Can't you just pull the pole out of both of us?" Kurt inquired, eyebrows furrowed.

"Right now the pole is plugging your wounds, and once the pole is removed, the organs will shift," Emma replied, arms crossed tightly across her chest. Killian noticed that her hands were gripping her arms in an unbearably firm hold, her fingers shaking slightly, contrasting with her steady tone. "There is a great deal of damage. If we pull the pole out of both of you, you two will bleed out very quickly."

A haunting silence spread across the room, consuming each and every crevice and seeping into everyone's bones. The disturbing realization settled in Abigail and Flynn's eyes, the gruesome sorrow flooding Killian's veins. Misery and despair coated the air and Killian felt suffocated and much too warm, nausea and bile gathering at the back of his throat.

"So," Abigail began in a shaky voice, attempting to stay calm. "You're saying if you operate, I'll die."

"No," Kurt shook his head desperately, tears rushing down his face and coating his dirt stained cheeks. "No, move me," he demanded.

"Mr. Flynn, you're injuries are less extensive," Dr. Mills insisted. "If we remove the pole from Miss Griffith, we'll have a better chance at repairing your damage."

"No," Kurt raised his voice. "It's not right, it's not fair!" He shouted furiously, pain wrapped around each letter that escaped his cracked and bloody lips. Killian averted his eyes, unable to watch as he stared intently at the floor.

"It's okay," Abigail whispered to Kurt, her mouth curved in a peaceful and watery smile.

"It's not fair," Mr. Flynn choked, his shoulders shaking.

"I know," Abigail nodded, her eyes fluttering shut. "I know. But you can survive, and I can't. It's the way things are, and it's okay," she comforted him.

Kurt took a shuddering breath, unable to respond. Abigail raised her glistening eyes, locking gazes with Dr. French.

"Will it hurt?" She asked.

"No," Belle shook her head, studying her softly with kindness and sympathy decorating her beautiful features. "You'll be put under anesthesia before we begin operating. It'll be just like falling asleep," she reassured her.

"Just like falling asleep," Abigail sighed, a calm smile gracing her face. "I hope I dream of Frederick."

Killian heard a quiet clearing of someone's throat, and he glanced up at Emma.

"Excuse me," she muttered, her hair masking her face in a golden curtain as she stepped out of the room. Out of a natural instinct, Killian followed her, concern for the resident consuming him.

Emma was located a few feet from the door, her head in her hand while she clutched her side desperately. She was breathing hard, shoulders shaking, and Killian approached her slowly.

"Emma," he spoke softly. "Are you okay?"

Emma shook her head, turning around to face him. "Yes," she sniffed, her face filled with sorrow. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were red and clouded with despair. "I'm fine. I am _fine. _I don't have a pole shoved through my body, leaving me paralyzed and in danger of bleeding out. My aorta isn't punctured and completely torn, my body hasn't suffered horrible and painful damage," she vented passionately, vulnerable and radiating depressing grief. Emma shook her head slightly, gazing into his eyes and sending shivers throughout his body. "It's not fair," she whispered. "It's not fair."

"I know," Killian mumbled, gazing at her delicately with desperation and care.

"You think I'm not meant to be a surgeon," Emma muttered after a moment, studying his face. "You think I'm too emotional." Emma shook her head, taking off her glasses and shoving them in her coat pocket.

"No, I don't," Killian assured her intensely. "You care," he added. "You care. It's… it's important. It's crucial as a surgeon." After a pause, he said, "Your passion is inspiring."

Emma gazed him with surprise and vulnerability, emotion shining in her eyes as she searched his face almost longingly. The two of them gazed at each other with what seemed like eternity, and Killian ached to tuck her hair behind her ear and wrap her in an embrace, whispering words of comfort and encouragement. His desire for her was shocking to him, the connection between them intense. How he could feel so close to a person after only knowing them for a few hours, he couldn't comprehend, but Emma Swan… she was an enigma, a beautiful and enchanting puzzle.

Emma blinked away, glancing at the floor before stating, "It's Dr. Swan."

"What?" Killian asked, momentarily dazed.

"You don't call me by my first name," Emma gulped, her tone hardening as she captured his eyes in a stern gaze. "You are my intern. I am Dr. Swan to you."

With that she strode quickly past him, brushing his shoulder accidentally as she went, her touch igniting Killian's entire being. Emma reentered the room, leaving Killian standing outside attempting to digest what had just occurred. She was unpredictable, stubborn, with the ability to feel a widespread amount of emotions. He could see she had walls sky high, blocking her off from the world, but Killian could read her; she was lost, as was he.

Med school never warned him about this.

"Oi."

Will's voice ripped Killian from his thoughts, and he turned around, still dazed from his encounter with Dr. Swan.

"We're going to head into surgery soon, and Dr. Chung is letting us scrub in," Will remarked, trying to hide his excitement. Killian couldn't blame him; this was an amazing trauma surgery, and although tragic, it would be an incredible learning experience. He knew Scarlet wasn't meaning to be insensitive, but still – he couldn't get the image of Emma's inky black eyelashes framing her misery, and his heart sunk.

Killian took a deep breath and followed Will, stuffing his hands in his pockets and reentering the room, gazing at Emma intently while she avoided his gaze.

"We're operating as soon as possible," Dr. French informed Killian and Will. "Head to O.R. three now."  
>Killian and Will nodded and obediently left, entering the main area of the E.R. Robin was still meticulously stitching up patients, his brows furrowed in concentration.<p>

Suddenly, a flash of brown hair flew in their vision, Ruby bounding in front of Will and Killian.

"Have any of you seen a leg?" She demanded, panicked and determined.

"What?" Killian asked, confused.

"A leg! Have any of you seen one?" Ruby exclaimed impatiently.

"I thought the leg was brought in with the amputee," Will responded.

"The stupid paramedic brought in the wrong leg," Ruby growled, eyes narrowing in annoyance. "I've looked everywhere. I have scoured the pit, went through all the ambulances, checked every corner of this hospital, including the morgue, and it is nowhere to be found!" She complained furiously. "If I don't find this leg, Dr. Fisher and Dr. Nolan are going to kill me. My career will be over before it's even started!" Ruby ranted. "All my medical training will be for nothing just because of some stupid, hairy, right leg!"

"What's going on?" Robin called from across the room, interested in the commotion.

"Please tell me you've seen a leg," Ruby begged. "A cleanly severed right leg."

"How weird is this job?" Robin remarked to Killian and Will.

"Focus!" Ruby snapped. "Leg?" She demanded.

"Haven't seen it," Robin shrugged, Killian and Will shaking their heads in response.

"Fuck!" Ruby swore, sprinting out of the E.R., searching wildly.

"Where are you guys off to?" Robin asked, returning to his sutures.

"Surgery, we're scrubbing in," Will boasted proudly.

"On the first day?!" Robin exclaimed. "Fuck you guys," he muttered.

"It's a pretty morbid procedure," Killian commented, trying to make Robin feel a bit better. He couldn't help the rush of accomplishment that ran through his veins, however. It was depressing, but it was also once in a lifetime.

"Yeah, bloody amazing," Will added. "Now, get on, we need to scrub in before our sodding resident has a fit."

Killian opened his mouth to defend Emma, but shut it quickly, deciding better of it. He didn't need Will giving him a hard time about Dr. Swan, especially since word would get around quickly that he was attracted to her if he let on. People would focus more on his personal life than his talent, and that was something he _did not _need.

Jogging to the O.R., Killian and Will quickly dressed and scrubbed with an excited fervor, drinking in the sight of the O.R. It was enchanting, heavenly – a blank canvas where scalpels painted a magical picture full of blood red patterns and metal clamps. Surgery was a performance, and the O.R. was a stage. This was where a doctor's true talent was showcased, where they proved themselves to the world. Lives were saved and lost here, and Killian felt an intense rush of adrenaline just by simply standing in the scrub room. Running his hands under the cool water, he tried to steady his rapidly beating heart to a normal speed. Next to him, Will was furiously rubbing his fingers with a soap soaked sponge, scouring every inch of his skin. Killian could feel the excitement radiating off the other intern, and it was infectious. Regina, Mulan, Belle, and Emma entered the scrub room, surgical caps on their heads, as the patients were wheeled into the O.R.

"You two ready?" Mulan asked, turning on the faucet. Will and Killian nodded in response, tying their surgical masks around their necks. She sighed, watching as the anesthesiologist put them under, the patients' eyes closing sleepily. This was it. Killian's stomach flipped nervously.

He turned to Will. "Good luck, mate," he murmured, pulling his surgical mask over his head and covering his mouth.

"You too," Will muttered.

Before they could even start to make it through the doors to the operating room, a loud, panicked beeping reverberated throughout the space. Emma and the attendings rushed in the operating room, Killian and Will hot on their heels.

"What happened?" Regina barked, shoving her hands in latex gloves, the others following in suit.

"I just put her under, I didn't move her at all," the anesthesiologist reported. "I barely touched her!"

"The pole must have shifted," Regina sighed, frustrated. Killian's mind was racing, his heart beating quickly in his chest as he drank in the scene around him. She was fading, and fast. They had to do something immediately if they even wanted to attempt saving her.

"I didn't do anything. It's not my fault!" The anesthesiologist cried, panicked.

"It's no one's fault," Belle reassured him, rushing over quickly to the pair on the table. "We need to remove her right now if we have any chance," the neurologist ordered. "Come on, people, let's move!"

Everyone surrounded the two trauma patients, charged and at the ready.

"How do we do this?" Dr. Chung asked.

"Team one, continue to stabilize his body," Dr. French instructed. "Team two, move her body back off the pole. We need to get the saw in there now."

Killian and Will, part of team one, gripped Mr. Flynn tightly, keeping him as still as possible as Emma, Regina, Mulan, and a few other surgical assistants slowly began to slide Abigail off the metal rod. There was a trail of blood slicked onto the iron as she moved backward, and Killian felt a rush of determination to save her life, even if it was practically impossible.

A surgical assistant gripped the pole, keeping it steady as Abigail was finally parted from the obstruction. Immediately, Dr. Chung grabbed the saw and turned it on, a loud whirring consuming the O.R.

"He's stable for now," Belle shouted over the noise. "Let's start with her and see what we can do."

"Jones, get over here," Emma called, completely occupied with Abigail's body, now resting on another table.

Killian hurried in Dr. Swan's direction, adrenaline thrumming throughout his entire body. He moved with precision, running to Dr. Mills' side on the opposite end of the table, prepared for instruction. He would be damned if he wouldn't do all in his power to help this girl.

"Scalpel," Dr. Mills ordered, gripping the metal tool and creating a perfect and meticulous incision down her abdomen. Once Abigail was exposed, Dr. Chung appeared at Emma's side, having finished with the saw, and helped the others attempt to repair the damage.

"Jones, help retract," Dr. Swan ordered, and Killian grasped the retractor and quickly hooked it into the opening of Abigail's abdomen, pulling backward to expose more of her organs.

She was completely mangled and hemorrhaging by the second, her organs tattered and ripped from the pole. The damage was intense and traumatic, her body almost totally destroyed.

Dr. Mills dug her hand in, reaching upward and searching for the heart.

"I'm in," she reported, and then immediately shook her head in disappointment. "Her aorta is shredded. There's too much damage here, we have no rhythm."

Killian's heart sunk, and he glanced quickly at the monitor. Her stats, already poor, were deteriorating fast. He knew there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that they could do to save her. She was gone.

"Doctors," the anethisologist called for their attention. "He's losing pressure."

Regina gave a curt nod to Dr. Chung. "Let's go."

Killian paused, and Mulan noticed his hesitation.

"Jones, come on," she said gently. "There's nothing more we can do."

Killian nodded, reluctantly removing the retractor and following the trauma attending dutifully. The surgical assistants changed their gloves for them, and Killian then stood over Mr. Flynn, prepared for orders.

"What about her?"

Killian swiveled around, noticing Emma was still hovering over Abigail, a desperate look in her eyes. Concerned, Killian's face filled with sympathy. He recognized that look. He saw it in the mirror every day.

"We can't just abandon her!" Emma cried hysterically, scanning the attendings hopelessly. They ignored her, hurrying around the other patient and preparing to open him up as well.

"We can't just abandon her!" Emma shouted again, panic laced in her voice, and Killian knew this was personal.

_We can't just abandon her._

Killian's heart began to beat a painful rhythm, and if each thump had a word, it would scream _lost girl, lost girl, lost girl._

After all, lonely people could recognize each other in any given circumstance. And Emma Swan was definitely alone, just like Abigail Griffith was now.

"I'm going in stem to stern. Give me the sternal saw," Dr. Mills reported, still ignoring Emma. Killian couldn't see how she managed to. To Killian, Emma was the only person in the room. He cleared his throat.

"Dr. Swan," he said, attempting to snap her out of her reverie as she desperately searched Abigail's inner organs. Belle heard Killian's call and snapped her bright eyes over to Emma.

"Swan," she called. Emma paid the attending no mind.

"Emma!" Killian yelled, hoping he wasn't overstepping boundaries. But Emma needed to come over, needed to help the other patient. She had to detach herself from Abigail. Killian sensed inner turmoil swirling around inside of her, and a strong surge of protective energy rushed through him.

"What about her?" Emma hollered frantically. "We cannot just abandon her, we can't! We have an obligation!" Her green eyes were wild and distraught, imploring and begging for the others to pay attention.

Belle released her instruments and headed over to Emma's side, urging her to depart from Abigail.

"Emma, come on," Belle demanded. "We have to let her go, there was never anything we could have done. There was too much damage."

Emma focused on Dr. French, searching her face before slowly and regretfully pulling her hands out of Abigail's open body cavity. The monitor let out a long, upsetting sound, and Dr. French sighed.

"Time of death, 3:49," Belle reported, running back over to Kurt. Killian gazed at Emma, who was breathing heavily and focused on Abigail's lifeless and peaceful face. He ached to go over there and comfort her, but held himself back. He knew she would furiously reject his attempts at consolidation, and besides, his first responsibility was his patient, not his resident.

"Dr. Jones," Mulan ordered, snapping Killian back to reality. "Get in here."

Killian obeyed, focusing all his attention and vigor on Mr. Flynn, and tried not to let his eyes wander as Emma Swan appeared beside him, shaking slightly.

_Lost girl, lost girl, lost girl._

Killian knew a lost person when he saw one, and he wondered if she could recognize him as well.

He hoped so.

* * *

><p>"It's a long road to recovery, but your husband will be fine," Dr. French assured Mrs. Flynn, who responded with a tearful sob, launching herself at the neurosurgeon and grasping her in a tight and grateful hug, which the attending returned with a gentle smile on her pink lips.<p>

Killian had decided to accompany Dr. French to deliver the update on Kurt to his wife instead of joining Emma and Mulan, who were on their way to break the news to Frederick, Abigail's fiancé. He was surprised that Emma volunteered to speak to Frederick, and when she caught sight of his bewildered look, she said, "I have to see this through to the end. She deserves that."

Her passion astounded him, and admiration and respect for her filled him to the brim. As he watched her walk away with Mulan, a stony and determined look painted across her features, jealousy of her courage and bravery ran through him. She was intense, strong, and valiant, and if Killian was being completely honest, he was incredibly thankful that he could study under her, no matter how distracting she might be.

The three of them exited the patient's room, and Dr. French sighed and turned to the two exhausted interns.

"You two should head back to the locker rooms, freshen up," she suggested. "You still have twenty-something hours left."

Killian and Will headed back the locker rooms without question, walking as if they were on autopilot. Killian couldn't remember the last time he had been this tired. The surgery had taken forever and had used up almost all of his energy, yet he was still expected to be alert for the rest of his shift. He made a mental note to splash some water of his face and grab an extremely caffeinated coffee from the cafeteria as soon as possible, or he would probably topple over with exhaustion.

Entering the locker room, a couple interns, along with Ruby and Robin, were searching through their lockers or just sitting down on the benches, chatting and stretching.

"Hey, how was your surgery?" Robin asked, wide-awake.

"Amazing, but bloody depressing," Will muttered. Robin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"We saved one guy, but the other patient died," Killian informed him morbidly, and Robin shot him a sympathetic glance.

"It happens," he replied. "Besides, you saved the other guy's life, right? Focus on that."

Killian nodded, engraining Robin's advice in his head. He still had a long shift ahead of him, and if he were too occupied on Abigail, he'd never get any work done. There was nothing they could have done for her, but there were other patients he could save, and he had to give them his undivided attention.

"Did you end up finding that guy's leg?" Killian asked Ruby, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

"Yep!" She grinned proudly. "Turns out it was left at the scene. A paramedic came and delivered it, and we were able to reattach it." Ruby shook her head in disbelief, her teeth glittering. "That was the most amazing surgery I've ever been a part of. It was my first ever surgery. How can I beat that?"

Robin grumbled, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he slammed his locker door shut. "I better get a damn surgery, and soon," he growled. "It's not fair that you all got one and I didn't."

"Don't fret, Hood." Will gave the other intern a cheeky grin. "You'll graduate from sewing soon enough."

Robin chucked a tube of deodorant at him, and Killian and Ruby burst into laughter as Scarlet defiantly shouted, "Bloody hell!"

Killian's body began to warm as a smile settled on his face. If these were the people he was working with, he had a feeling loosing patients wouldn't be nearly as painful. He knew making friends wasn't his first priority, but it definitely wasn't completely irrelevant. Besides, they were good people. He needed that in his life, especially after being alone for so long.

Before Will could throw the deodorant back at Robin, they heard the door open and swiveled their heads toward the noise, only to be met with the sight of their resident. Emma had her glasses perched on her nose yet again, and was scanning a clipboard in front of her. To Killian's surprise, she looked completely fine, as if nothing had happened. She seemed well put together and composed, professional and at the ready. She flicked her entrancing gaze toward the four of them and tapped her clipboard.

"Hurry up and get ready. We have rounds in five minutes," she instructed, turning around and marching out the door.

The rest of them shrugged on their white coats, checking to see if their pagers were attached and throwing their stethoscopes around their necks. Killian gazed around the cluttered locker room, the corner of his lip twitching upward.

Seven years of residency. Seven years of this place.

Killian had a feeling he would be just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hello, all. Usually I don't do author's notes, but I had to do one this time. I'm so touched by all of your kind reviews and sweet words. I never expected this story to attract as much attention as it did, and I just want to thank everyone for all the follows, favorites, and wonderful reviews. You're all so amazing!

FYI, I'm on winter break right now, which means chapters will be coming out often, about every few weeks. Just so you know, I go back to school in a couple weeks. I'm a full-time college student and I have an internship three days a week, so updates might not be as frequent as they are right now, but I will try my very best to update regularly! I love writing this story and your enthusiasm only inspires me more, so this is definitely a priority for me.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. I'll be switching POVs on each chapter so you get an equal dose of Killian and Emma. Happy reading!

* * *

><p>The odd thing about leaves was their ability adapt. They were practically chameleon-like, teardrops of trees that fell from barked branches and swirled in the wind, creating spotted ornaments in the wide, endless sky above. Winter claimed them ruthlessly, replacing the fronds with mountains of ghost-white snow, only reappearing when the spring season decided to consume each and every crevice nature had to offer. Fall leaves were much different than spring ones; they were crunchy, creating crinkled tunes each time a ratty sneaker or fashionable boot hurried across the sidewalk. Their colors were warm auburn, decorating the environment with yellows and oranges while spring offered flimsy green decorations with pastel colored flowers and ferns. Fall was much more preferable to any other season, in Emma Swan's opinion – especially summer, which consisted of sweat soaked individuals and overcrowded beaches.<p>

Emma adored fall. A soft, refreshing breeze danced in the crisp September air, brushing along her thighs and through her golden locks as she walked through the park on her way to work. It was a longer detour, but she had time, and Emma enjoyed drinking in as much beauty as possible, especially since it had been so rare in her life.

Accompanying Emma on her trek was her best friend and other fourth-year resident, Elsa Haig. Her, Elsa, and their other best friend, David, all spent their intern year together and continued their residency without parting from one other, the three inseparable and tied at the hip. Their friendship was unbreakable, surviving through every rocky path and storm, something that wasn't a familiar experience for Emma. Left on the side of the road by her parents when she was only hours old, she had become far too accustomed with abandonment. Instead of playing hopscotch, Emma bounced from one home to another, suffering from abuse, loneliness, and trust issues. She built walls sky high, each indestructible brick pasted together with permanent cement, refusing to budge. She had learned a valuable lesson in foster care: you can't trust anyone.

The only exceptions to this rule were David Nolan and Elsa Haig, the one true family she had. They had never let her down, always caring for her, making her laugh, and improving her life tenfold. They may not have stitched every hole in her heart or repaired every shattered bone, but she certainly wasn't as broken as before.

Whenever their shifts started at the same time, which was often, Emma, David, and Elsa would bombard one of them at their apartment, loud and practically shouting for a caffeine stop on the way to work. Lately Emma's apartment had been the go-to, and she eventually ended up giving the two of them keys to her place. They practically lived there anyway.

Elsa had spent the night at Emma's, the two of them downing multiple types of alcohol and trading patient stories, along with complaining about their new interns. Elsa's didn't seem so bad, just a bunch of suck ups, which was one of Emma's biggest grievances, so she thanked all the stars in the sky she wasn't stuck with those blubbering idiots. Elsa revealed that one of her interns was Phillip Morris, the husband to one of Storybrooke General's best nurses, Aurora. Elsa informed Emma that Phillip was actually pretty good, but even if he wasn't, she was required to be nice to him, as Aurora was so sweet, compassionate, and helpful, and one of their favorite nurses. But although the kind girl possessed all these admirable qualities, she had a bite to her, and could easily make anyone who crossed her regret they were born. Plus, she was pregnant, so add hormones to that, and you were looking at a first class trip to hell.

They had ranted about their interns for hours, Emma especially so. Interns were like babies and residents their parents, and being a surgeon was already a full time job. Raising little lost, recently graduated med students? Not really a favorite pastime.

But still, Storybrooke General was a teaching hospital, and showing interns the ways of the medical world and molding them into talented and efficient doctors was part of the job description. When the third-year residents graduated to fourth-years, they had all groaned in resigned frustration as they realized that this was the time when they would be receiving interns to educate and watch over. They had all prayed the new additions to the hospital wouldn't be completely awful – well, technically they really couldn't be, as Storybrooke General Hospital was one of the most selective in the country and only chose the most pristine individuals to become part of their program – but Emma practically shoved her head through a wall when her new interns were introduced to her.

They were talented, she couldn't deny that. After being thrown into a high profile trauma case on their first day, they handled it surprisingly well. And especially because it involved a death, it definitely revealed the reality of this profession very quickly. But even though they had potential, Emma was still goddamn annoyed with them, and wouldn't take any shit. She had never been one to deal with anyone's crap, and her interns were certainly no exception. They were desperate for surgeries, begging her to scrub in for the last two weeks after the bus crash, and Emma denied them every time. She needed to make sure they were competent in the basics before they could take part in surgeries, even if they did prove themselves to be capable in the O.R. a few weeks ago. Emma did understand their desperation and eagerness, though – she was the same when she was an intern. But her resident made her and the other interns in her class finish charts, do scut, stick to sutures, watch from the gallery, write post-op notes, and other parts of the foundations of medicine before participating in surgery, and while it was frustrating at the time, it ultimately benefited her in the long run. She wasn't going to follow every one of her interns' wishes and end up with incompetent doctors.

They were infuriating with their begging and pleading, and even though they performed their jobs well, Emma had to constantly snap at them to stop being brats. The one who bothered her most was Killian Jones.

She _should not _be attracted to an intern. It was inappropriate, unprofessional, and just asking for trouble. She would not ruin her career over a stupid intern with blue, blue, blue, blue, _blue _eyes and straight, white teeth, with scruff that caused heat to pool in the bottom of her stomach, which made her so furious she thought she would explode. Who did he think he was, with his perfect jawline and delicious smirk that made her want to trap his bottom lip between her teeth and explore his mouth with her tongue?

She should _not _be attracted to an intern with unusually perfect eyebrows. She shouldn't_._

But for the past few weeks, all she could think about was the way he followed her when she attempted to escape from tragedy and how his eyes seemed to see right through her. And the way he said her name… _Emma _– as if it was the most beautiful word that had ever rolled off his tongue and through his tantalizing lips. He had studied her as if he knew and understood sorrow, had experienced pain, and could identify with the lost feeling she always felt swirling inside her. _Your passion is inspiring._

She couldn't allow herself to be attracted to him. After the mess with Neal, she promised herself she would never fall in love again. And Emma had a sinking feeling in the back of her mind that Killian Jones was the exact kind of person she could fall for, a feeling she would constantly deny for the rest of her life.

She had walls for a reason. She wasn't about to let him in, to allow him to see the vulnerability and misery inside her. She was never going to let anyone in the world do that.

She constantly stifled the strange pull she felt toward him, every second of every day, convincing herself that it was just sexual attraction. She would get over this. She had to. She hadn't told anyone about this, not even Elsa. She would never tell anyone about this. Ever.

Walking through the park, she distracted herself from thinking about him by focusing on Elsa's chatter as her friend talked about her sister's wedding. Moving to the United States for med school, Elsa grew up in Norway with her sister, Anna, the two girls growing up in a wealthy home. Both of them were humble, kind individuals, hard-working and thankful. Elsa and Anna's parents died in a boating accident when the siblings were very young, leading Elsa to become head of the household, something she took very seriously. She was protective and a natural born leader, a loyal and passionate girl.

Although she was incredibly strong and capable, underneath her powerful façade was an insecure, worried woman, a trait that Emma could relate to immensely. The two of them were soulmates, forming an immediate connection and quickly becoming each other's rocks, confiding in each other and sharing practically everything. Emma had no idea how a wonderful human being like Elsa entered her life, but she thanked every star in the sky that the girl did.

As her friend talked about her sister's wedding plans, her icicle blue eyes sparkled, lighting up their surroundings. Her hair was plaited in its signature braid, falling beautifully over her shoulder, and she walked with confidence, entrancing everyone around her.

"They keep putting off the wedding, which is pretty annoying," Elsa remarked. "I feel bad because I'm her maid of honor and I'm constantly working and unable to visit, but I literally have no time."

"The life of a surgeon," Emma snorted, bringing her coffee to her lips and sipping the warm liquid.

"Really though," Elsa sighed, rolling her pretty eyes, her irises glinting in the daylight. "I know as her maid of honor I should be helping her plan it, and I'm trying, but it's really hard to plan a wedding when the bride is thousands of miles away."

Emma nodded, feeling sympathy for her friend. It was no secret that Elsa and Anna were incredibly close, calling each other constantly and staying up late chatting in Norwegian. She knew it pained Elsa that she couldn't be there for her sister during such a hectic time, but, of course, being a surgeon was life consuming. The hospital owned them, and working long hours were so natural to them that they found it odd when other people described their own nine to five work days.

She knew Elsa only felt worse due to her sister's reaction. Anna was probably the sweetest woman to ever exist, and she continuously assured Elsa that she didn't mind that her sister was so far away and unavailable. Elsa's sister was incredibly earnest and understanding, always encouraging Elsa and supporting her through every struggle. Emma could tell Elsa felt guilty and thought she wasn't being there for Anna when she needed her, but the blonde's hands were tied. Storybrooke General was demanding, intense, and fierce, and although Elsa and Emma wouldn't want to be anywhere else, it could be frustrating to not have any free time at all.

Reaching the end of the park and approaching the sidewalk, the two girls waited at the crosswalk, beginning to converse about the attendings.

"Do you think Regina will let me on her service today?" Elsa asked, taking a drink from her mocha latte. Elsa was interested in cardiothoracics and immensely talented in the field, stunning everyone with her abilities. Everyone called her "the next cardio queen", marveling over her skills and techniques. As a resident, however, they couldn't restrict themselves to certain fields just yet. They were often put on different department cases so they could improve and become familiar with everything, which was understandable. But whenever Emma was put on a trauma case, she felt a strong rush that wasn't as intense as when she was assigned to neuro or plastics. Of course she enjoyed all types of surgery; it was her passion, the reason she got up in the morning – but trauma was her strong suit, always exciting her fervently.

Emma shrugged at Elsa's question. "I have no idea. Hopefully. You haven't been on any of her cases in weeks," Emma remarked, eliciting a grumble from Elsa. "I really hope I'm not doing general today," Emma groaned. "I've resected so many bowels with Albert that I'm thinking about jamming my head through a wall."

Elsa laughed at her proclamation, throwing her head back. Albert Spencer, nicknamed "King George" due to his intense insanity, was the Head of General Surgery at SGH. He was talented and skilled, but the biggest, arrogant jackass in the world. He technically wasn't insane like the real King George, who suffered from dementia, but his rudeness toward others and his excuses for his inappropriate behavior made everyone classify him as crazy. Emma had been on his service for a few days now, and was required to be polite due to his status as an attending, but god, was she so close to breaking. He absolutely infuriated her, and being stuck in an O.R. with him for hours on end was taking its toll.

Before Elsa could respond, a flash of colors rushed by them, whoops and cheers eliciting from the figures that passed. Dozens of individuals on bikes flew down the street dangerously, cutting in front of cars that honked angrily at the group. A few of them crashed into poles or over fire hydrants, some barely missing street signs. Emma was completely taken by surprise when the bikers first sped by, dropping her coffee on the ground as she jumped in shock, the warm, brown liquid narrowly missing her simple white shirt. Elsa, also taken off guard, had fumbled with her drink as well, but ended up being able to save her coffee, clutching the cup tightly.

"What the hell?" Emma cried, eyebrows furrowed, studying the mess before her. "Wh – "

Before she could finish her sentence, her eyes widened in realization. She swiveled her head to Elsa, who was staring back at her with a matching expression. They knew what this was. It happened once a year and it was always catastrophic, the hospital filling with patients when this event occurred.

"Dead Baby Bike Race," they both said at the same time, blinking at each other.

As soon as the light at the other side of the road flashed a white walking symbol, the two jogged to the hospital, which was only a couple blocks away, rushing through the automatic doors and speeding to the resident changing room. David was already there, clad in his light blue scrubs, putting his things away in his designated storage spot. The commotion Emma and Elsa created caused him to turn his head, watching their figures curiously.

"Hey, guys," he greeted. "What's going – "

Elsa pulled her scrubs out, kicking off her flats. "Emma and I almost died coming over here."

"What?" A small smirk made its way across David's features. "How?"

Elsa, breathing heavily, turned to him as she pulled her shirt over her head. "By bikes."

"By b –" David's eyebrows had furrowed in confusion for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding. "Crap. It's –"

"Dead Baby Bike Race day," Emma confirmed, nodding as she tied together the laces of her sneakers.

"We're gonna be swamped," David commented, quickly heading out the door. "I need to page my interns, stat."

"Looks like it's the interns' lucky day," Elsa remarked with a sigh. "Hopefully this will bring an end to their complaining."

"Yeah, I doubt it," Emma grumbled, pulling her hair up in a ponytail and tossing her bag into her cubby.

The two of them exited the room, heading in different directions as they paged their interns, impatiently waiting for them to arrive. Seconds later, she saw her four interns jogging toward her hurriedly. They had learned very quickly not to ignore her pages, and now every time she called them they rushed right to her side immediately.

The four skidded to a stop in front of her, clad in their white coats and scrubs, standing up straight and waiting for orders.

"Listen, today is a big day," Emma informed them, beginning to walk to the E.R., knowing most contributors in the race would be entering from there. "You need to focus, give everyone your undivided attention, and be prepared for anything."

She could practically feel the excitement and anticipation radiate off their skin as they followed her from behind, the idea of a trauma igniting their veins. Emma understood the feeling.

Continuing to walk through the hospital, she spotted the Chief of Surgery, Robert Gold, studying the O.R. board with Regina and the Head of Ophthalmologic Surgery, Graham Humbert. Graham had been with Storybrooke Hospital for years, his talent surpassing the normal limits, repeatedly perfecting each and every clinical trial he was involved in with skill. He was a kind and gentle person, always allowing interns and residents to scrub in on his surgeries and eager to impart knowledge and educate every curious individual. His good looks entranced practically every woman in the hospital, along with a few men, all of whom tittered whenever he walked by and whispered praise and admiration of the surgeon. Emma often overheard giggles from those wondering about his talent in the bedroom, and she had to hold herself back from rolling her eyes. Their obsession with him was somewhat annoying (not that she should talk, seeing as she kept finding herself thinking about her stupid intern), especially since she herself knew how good he was in bed. Emma supposed that if she had to put a label on it, her and Graham would be defined as "friends with benefits"; good friends and professional coworkers inside and outside the hospital, but sexual partners in the on-call room. No one knew about it but Elsa and David's girlfriend, Mary Margaret, and Emma aimed to keep it that way. Graham and her didn't feel anything toward each other romantically, but she knew if the hospital found out, there would be painful inquisitions and endless questions of their relationship, which was something Emma was not about to put up with.

If she was being honest, the real reason she was sleeping with Graham wasn't because she was infatuated and powerless to his charm and attractive demeanor, but it was because she ached to feel something – anything – that would distract her from the constant emptiness that always resided in her heart. It never worked – Graham was fine when they were together, but not amazing, and even so, the pain that constantly ran through her veins was never diminished. She kept sleeping with him though, pathetically hoping that one day it would work, and at least some of her misery would subside, but in the back of her mind she knew it was a hopeless cause.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she cleared her throat and called out to the chief, grabbing his attention.

"Chief?" She said, and the head of the hospital, specializing in cardiothoracics, turned his head toward her. "Dead Baby Bike Race day," she informed him.

"Okay, people, Dead Baby Bike Race day!" Gold shouted, clapping his hands loudly in order to get everyone to prepare for the traumas that were about to come in. Everyone began rushing around, readying themselves for the cases that were about to come, and Emma continued her journey to the E.R.

"Aw, sweet!" Will cheered, a goofy grin spreading across his face.

"What's Dead Baby Bike Race day?" Killian asked, confusion painting his features. His perfect, gorgeous, beautiful features…

_No, _Emma scolded herself, rage filling her up to the brim. _Shut up and get ahold of yourself. You are not attracted to him, you are not. You are a surgeon, you save lives. Nothing will distract you from that, especially not some stupid British intern._

"Every year, this bar –" Robin began only to be cut off by Ruby.

"The Dead Baby Bar," Will informed, following Emma quickly and eagerly.

"Every year they hold this underground bike race," Robin continued.

"Why the hell would someone name a bar after a dead baby?" Killian wrinkled his nose, disgusted.

"Who bloody cares?" Will exclaimed, excitement written across his face. "It's amazing! It's totally illegal –"

"And crazy," Ruby added, Emma agreeing with her internally. Why a bunch of people would go around killing themselves over a few free drinks, she would never know. "It's just a bunch of bike messengers racing against traffic for a couple free shots of tequila," Ruby scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"An all-out, no-holds-barred competition," Robin stated, his eyes glinting with elation and enthusiasm.

"It doesn't even have any rules, which is the great part," Will jumped in. "Except eye gouging, no eye gouging."

"What kind of people willingly engage in a race that, as its only rule, you can't rip out the eyeballs of another human being?" Ruby commented.

Emma couldn't help but agree with her intern. The stupidity of the human race could be staggering. The thing that infuriated Emma the most was the bikers' complete disregard for the rest of the human population. Pedestrians and drivers offered suffered serious injuries from the race, and sometimes died because of it. The fact that the race was still going on was frustrating, and even though it brought in some pretty great traumas, Emma couldn't help but want to lecture each and every participant about how crazy and stupid and _dumb _they were. But Emma was a doctor, not a mother to those complete morons, so she had to keep her mouth shut and deal with the fact that some people were so selfish and idiotic it was literally life-threatening. Once again, the stupidity of the human race. Fucking ridiculous.

Tying the yellow, thin scrub cover around her waist and neck, Emma turned toward the interns, scanning their four eager and hopeful faces.

"One of you needs to go to O.R. floor, the chief needs a right hand," Emma informed them. All of their hands immediately shot up, the prospect and opportunity of working with the chief apparently trumping those being carted in due to the destructive bike race.

Emma glanced over them quickly, and sighed, waving her hand at Robin. "Hood."

Robin grinned and ripped off his own yellow scrub cover, rushing out of the E.R. As Robin ran through the double doors, Emma began to recap the important knowledge to keep in mind when working in the emergency room.

"Okay, people, remember the rules of trauma. Don't mingle with the E.R. interns, they don't know their ass from their esophagus," Emma rolled her eyes, thinking of the incompetence. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Killian smirk, his eyebrow raising in _that way, _and she averted her gaze from him.

"Sew fast, discharge faster," she continued. "Get bodies up to the O.R. and don't let me catch you fighting over patients. All that time that you guys spend whining doesn't help anyone and it annoys me. Got it?" Emma lifted her eyebrows at the three and they nodded their heads in understanding, longing to dive in.

"Let's go," Emma beckoned, ponytail swinging behind her, leading them further into the E.R. Already, bloody and mangled patients where being wheeled in on gurneys, clad in neck braces and covered in gauze. Bruises littered their skin, along with fresh cuts and scrapes, some moaning in pain while others were knocked unconscious. Doctors were rushing around, attempting to get to any patient they could, quickly assessing their injuries and planning treatment.

One damaged man, who looked more like a civilian than a biker, as he was dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, rolled past the group, and Emma could clearly see brain matter.

"Mine!" Killian shouted, sprinting after the patient, Will and Ruby shouting in defiance. Their attention was quickly taken by another patient, however, and they seemed to forget about Killian's conquest.

"Oh," Ruby gasped, her eyes widening in delight as she set her eyes on a man sitting upright on a bed, a bored look on his face as he waited for a medical technician. There were bicycle spokes lodged in his side at odd angles, which was covered in blood.

"I'll take that guy," Ruby grinned, entranced.

"Not unless I get to him first," Will argued, beginning to run toward him. Ruby scowled and rushed after the determined intern, opening her mouth to shout out a retort.

"Hey!" Emma snapped, and the two slowed down to a fast walk. "What did I just say?" Emma glared at them, her eyebrows furrowed.

They mumbled apologies and resumed their brisk pace, heading toward the injured patient.

Emma rolled her eyes and made her way toward the trauma room that the patient Killian had attended to had been wheeled into. Entering through the door, she was met with the sight of Belle French and Regina working on the man. Regina was studying chest x-rays pinned up on the projector tacked to the wall, and Belle was hovering over the maimed man's head.

"Unidentified John Doe, mid-thirties pedestrian, hit by a motorist swerving to avoid a bike. G.C.S. is three, and his pupils are fixed and dilated. Atropine was given for a pulse in the forties. B.P. one eighty-three over one twelve, pulse-ox ninety-eight percent," Killian reported to the attendings, handing Belle the brain scans. Belle studied the scan, perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowing as she examined the results.

"His chest showed a widened mediastinum," Killian informed Dr. Mills, handing her another chest x-ray. "Head C.T. revealed cerebral enema. He's gotten seventy of mannitol, dexamethasone ten, and a gram of phenytoin."

"Are you guys going to head up to the O.R.?" Emma asked the attendings.

Regina leaned toward Belle, who was examining his head. "Is he gorked?" She asked.

"Looks like," the neurosurgeon whispered sadly.

"The bike race claims its first victim," Regina sighed, hands on her hips. She checked her watch, stating, "Looks like I'll make my triple-a repair after all."

She nodded a goodbye to the three of them and exited the room, headed to her surgery. Killian looked around, confused, his features contorted in a puzzled expression.

"He's not going to the O.R.?" Killian wondered, blinking at Belle.

"No," she responded. "Do an E.E.G. and confirmatory tests. If he doesn't respond in six hours, declare him," Belle instructed, writing notes on a clipboard.

Handing the clipboard to Killian, she left the trauma room, hurrying to get to another patient. Emma sighed, studying the man lying in front of her. The poor gentleman was simply enjoying his day, never suspecting to be run over in a frenzy of terror. Although she loved her job, it could be seriously depressing.

She remembered how Killian comforted her a few weeks ago, sympathy lacing his ocean irises, and her gaze drifted over to his body. He was still studying the patient, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Declare him?" Killian frowned. "Declare him what?"

Emma's eyes traced over the patient who lay still and silent on the gurney, machines attached to him. She folded her arms across her chest, sympathy vibrating through her body. He could have a family, people who loved him. The thought of those individuals who cared so much for this person broke Emma's heart. She swallowed, gazing at the patient sadly. These were the exact kind of tragedies that stemmed from irresponsibility and selfishness; this man was taken away from the earth, taken away from those he loved and who loved him, all because of some people who wanted free shots of vodka.

"Brain dead," she answered, feeling Killian's eyes snap up to her face.

She stared back at him, the connection between them crackling fiercely, and Emma couldn't tear her gaze away from his gorgeous ocean eyes, his pupils the moon that created the tides. She was brought back to the moment when he had appeared behind her, calling her inspiring and apparently meaning it, acting like he actually cared how she felt and what happened to her. Emma didn't know how to respond to that; how to react to someone who she barely knew that seemed to read her like an open book. She prided her walls for being indestructible, the unmovable gates to a secret garden full of weeds, but it seemed Killian had jumped over the obstacle effortlessly, attempting to turn her wilted roots into flowers.

Her heart jumped and flipped uneasily, and she attempted to break the joining of emerald and sapphire. It was painful, her eyes leaving his face, and she tightened her arms harder across her chest, staring intently out the window and into the main part of the E.R.

"See if you can find out who he is and if he has any family," Emma told him, wavering on the word "family". The word was foreign to her, and felt bitter on her tongue. "Report to me if you find anything."

Out of her peripheral vision she spotted Killian nodding at her, still studying her intensely, and she felt as if the oxygen was being sucked out of the room, air being pulled violently from her lungs.

With great difficulty she exited the area, pushing the door open with force and hurriedly walking quickly to the front desk, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. She couldn't think about this, couldn't feel this way, especially since this was such a serious event. She was a surgeon, not a lovesick idiot.

Emma tried to shake herself out of her trance, reaching her destination.

"Hey, Ashley," Emma greeted the nurse behind the counter.

"Hey." Ashley gave Emma a glittering smile, her shoulder length blonde hair somehow managing to shine beautifully in the fluorescent lights.

Ashley Boyd, called "Ella" by the other nurses due to some weird inside joke that passed between them, was a helpful and kind nurse, and the best friend of Aurora. After Aurora, she was always the go-to nurse to report to and ask for assistance.

"Oh, Mulan wanted you to fill these out," Ashley informed, handing Emma a stack of paperwork.

Emma wrinkled her nose in disgust as she gripped the pile. "What for?"

"I don't know, it's just a bunch of trauma stuff that needs to get done." Ashley shrugged. "She says you'll know what it's about."

"But it's Dead Baby Bike Race day!" Emma whined, anxious and eager at the thought of participating in surgery.

"I know." Ashley smiled sympathetically. "But Mulan says she has pretty much everything under control for now, and these are pretty critical to get done. She's really busy and says you're the only one who knows how to do this stuff correctly."

Emma grumbled unhappily, scowling at the stack of paper in her grip. Great, just fucking great.

"Well, I'm doing it here," Emma stated. "If my interns screw up, I need to be around to rip them a new one."

Ashley let out a contagious laugh, tilting her head back at Emma's proclamation.

"I understand," she chuckled. Pulling up a chair next to her, she gestured for Emma to sit down. "Join the party," she offered.

Headed behind the counter and plopping down in the chair, Emma dropped the stack on the table with a loud _slam_, a miserable and defeated look on her face. This was the last thing she wanted to do. But Mulan was the Head of Trauma Surgery and her attending, which meant Emma had to follow her orders; besides, Mulan was one of the best surgeons she knew. If she said she had it under control, she did. Emma scanned the E.R. and did have to admit it seemed that everyone was handling it well. After all, SGH was one of the top hospitals in the country. They could handle a bunch of morons on bicycles.

Before she could even grab a pen in her nimble fingers, she heard a commotion with familiar voices. Her gaze snapped over to Will and Ruby, who were arguing in front of the patient with spokes piercing his skin. After a moment Ruby dragged the curtain that separated the two of them from the patient, furiously glaring at the other intern.

Will pulled out a coin from his pocket, and stated, "Heads: he's mine, tails: he's yours."

"Why do you get to be heads?" Ruby snapped.

Will smirked. "Because, doll, I have a head."

"Why do always manage to make everything dirty?" Ruby chastised, a scowl painting her pretty face. Will's smirk simply widened and he flipped the coin, the metal circle dancing in the air. Catching it in his tan palm, the two interns studied the result.

"Ha! Tails!" Ruby cheered, staring at him triumphantly while Will's lip curled in annoyance. "Now go away. There are plenty of other cases you can get involved in, so leave me alone and go get one!" Ruby snapped.

"I'm not going anywhere, princess," Will growled, his eyes dancing with anger and defiance, determination radiating off him. Ruby matched his expression and stance, keeping her ground.

"I am not backing down so I can do sutures all day while you're up in the O.R. working on a patient that I saw first!" Ruby barked, tiny delicate hands curled into angry fists. "This case is surgical, and you know it."

Will scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Please, it's a superficial wound."

"How do you know those things didn't rupture his peritoneum?" Ruby retorted.

"Because he's bloody sitting up and talking to us!" Will argued.

Anger and annoyance vibrated in Emma's bones at their immaturity and lack of patient care.

"Hey!" Emma snapped loudly, causing the two of them to swivel their heads around quickly, staring at her with wide, guilty eyes. "What did I say?" Emma chastised, eyes narrowed in fury. If these interns kept ignoring her orders, she swore to God she would jam her head through a wall just to put her out of her own misery.

"Sorry – " Will began, but Emma cut him off impatiently.

"Stop," she interrupted. "Will, do the tests. If there's something wrong with him, we're not going to be careless and send him out there. Listen to Lucas."

"Ah-ha!" Ruby boasted triumphantly, pride decorating her features. Will scowled, and the two of them disappeared behind the curtain, finally tending to the patient.

Emma shook her head, annoyed at their antics, and gripped a pen tightly, attempting to focus on her work.

Ashley giggled. "Someone isn't taking any shit," she commented.

"No, I am not," Emma muttered. Ashley let out another laugh and returned to her own work, and Emma began to scribble on numerous and multiple forms, the black ink tattooing the paperwork with her neat script. Time passed by, and Emma got lost and consumed in her work, scanning and studying the print stamped on the white paper, her hand beginning to cramp the more she wrote. Finally, after about an hour, she was almost finished and itching to check up and deal with actual patients or maybe see what Elsa and David were doing and possibly help out. Three-quarters done with the last page, she suddenly felt a gravitational pull, her stomach twisting, and she felt her face heat up. Closing her eyes and breathing hard through her nose, she slowly raised her gaze, landing her eyes on the one person she really didn't want to see. Clearing her throat and attempting to be professional, she straightened up in her seat.

"Jones," Emma called, spotting Killian across the room. "What's the update on John Doe?"

"Absent corneal reflexes," Killian reported. "It's been fifty-five minutes."

"Any news on the family?" she asked.

"Not yet. I found a hotel key card on him, though. I called the police, and I'm about to drop it off at the nurse's station so they can give it to them," Killian reported.

"Okay, keep me updated," Emma responded, nodding at him and immediately forcing herself to get back to work. She stared so hard at the letters on the page they began to blur and blend together, becoming unreadable. This was so annoying.

Slamming the finished packet shut, she handed it to Ashley and began to head out of the E.R., ripping off her scrub cover and wandering through the hospital in a trek to find Elsa. Remembering Regina's triple-a repair, she assumed that her friend had traveled to the gallery to watch the Head of Cardio. Her suspicions proved correct when she found Elsa seated comfortably in the gallery, snacking on a bag of chips while studying Dr. Mills' movements.

"Hey," Emma greeted, plopping down on the chair rested beside Elsa.

"Hey," Elsa replied, offering some of her chips to Emma, who gratefully took a couple, popping them into her mouth as her eyes drifted over to Regina.

"Did you work on any bike victims today?" Emma asked, watching the surgery below them.

"Only a couple with minor injuries," Elsa responded. "The attendings grabbed most of the really severe patients. David even scored a guy with all four broken limbs," Elsa revealed, envy dripping over every letter that escaped her jealous tongue.

"Ugh," Emma rolled her eyes. "Lucky. All I got to do was watch my interns bicker over patients, declare a man brain dead, and do a bunch of paperwork for Mulan."

"Today was supposed to be awesome," Elsa whined. "How the hell did we end up eating two dollar potato chips from the vending machine and watching a surgery we should be scrubbing in on?"

"Because our lives suck," Emma complained, scowling as she slumped in her seat, earning a chuckle from Elsa.

Hours passed as the two of them chatted and laughed in the gallery, watching Regina's hard work and taking turns running to the vending machine to get more unfulfilling snacks. The five-hour surgery passed quickly due to Emma and Elsa entertaining each other and being enraptured by the procedure before them. As the surgical team began to clean up the O.R., Emma stretched, raising her arms over her head as the slight pressure on her muscles was relieved.

"Well, I have to go check up on the brain dead guy and see if Mulan is out of surgery," she yawned. "It's been six hours. Jones probably had to declare him, but I should check anyway."

"Gotcha." Elsa nodded. "I'm going to see if there's anything I can scrub in on."

Exiting the O.R. gallery together, the girls parted as they headed off to complete each of their tasks. Spotting Will Scarlet across the room, Emma called out to him.

"Scarlet," Emma said, grabbing his attention. "What's up with the patient you and Lucas were working on?"

"Oh, we discharged him hours ago," Will replied. "He's fine."

"Good." Emma nodded, glancing at the clock on the wall as she passed. It had been just over six hours, which meant it was time to claim John Doe. Heading to the trauma room, Emma pushed open the door, only to be greeted with an empty room and Killian Jones slumped in a chair, gazing at his surroundings sadly. Emma quietly shut the door behind her and sat next to the intern.

"No luck?" Emma asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," Killian replied with a sigh, not meeting her gaze. Sympathy ran through her veins. She knew it could be hard to lose patients, and even though Jones handled the death of Abigail a couple weeks ago surprisingly well, watching a brain dead man for six hours and desperately hoping for the best definitely wasn't easy.

"These things happen," Emma attempted to reassure him. "There was nothing you could have done."

"I know," Killian responded. "I know. It's just…"

"Not fair," Emma finished, nodding.

Killian turned his head toward her, an upset look in his gorgeous and kind eyes, and Emma felt a déjà vu, only flipped. She was on the other side, comforting him, and she didn't know how. He seemed lost, just like her, but how was she supposed to be there for a person when she didn't even know how to handle the own mess inside her?

She cleared her throat, trying to snap out of her reverie, and asked, "Did the police find the family?"

"There was no family," Killian answered, crestfallen. "He's all alone."

"All alone," Emma repeated softly, her vulnerable gaze still locked on him. Killian met her eyes yet again, and a mutual understanding passed between the two of them.

_All alone._

Emma needed to get out of here, and fast. For some unexplainable reason, Killian was awaking the lonely monsters deep inside of her, his apparent understanding of her pain almost suffocating. They understood each other, and Emma wasn't used to that, wasn't used to someone she barely knew being able to see right through her. But although Emma's mind was screaming _go, _she couldn't move, unable to part from the intern, the thought of being away from him leading her stomach to twist. Her throat felt heavy and constricted, but before she could even attempt to break eye contact (it wouldn't have worked anyway), the door opened.

"Emma?" Ashley spoke. "Mulan's looking for you. She just got out of surgery a while ago."

Emma cleared her throat, the distraction allowing her to cease her contact with Killian. She glanced at the floor before turning to Ashley, thanking her and getting up, smoothing her pants. Without another look at the intern, she strode through the door. She could feel his blue, blue gaze on her as she exited the room, and she walked briskly and with determination as she put more and more space between them.

Trying to focus her mind on finding Mulan, she passed the waiting room, where a man caught her eye. It was the discharged patient who came in with the spokes puncturing his skin, and he looked in pain. He was clutching his side, doubled over, and coughing loudly.

"Sir?" Emma came over to him, concern painting her features as she studied the man who was obviously suffering. "Sir? What's wrong?"

The man shakily stood upward with great difficulty, and before he could even take a few steps toward her, he stumbled and collapsed on the ground, throwing up an immense amount of blood.

Emma gasped, "Oh!" and bent on the ground on her knees, examining the now unconscious patient, blood staining his lips and pale skin. She pulled back his shirt, only to see his side that was previously pierced by the spokes was enlarged and beating a rhythm, almost as if it had it's own heartbeat, colored red and purple. It was absolutely horrifying.

"I need a gurney over here!" Emma shouted, whipping her head up. Nurses began to scramble, and Emma clutched her hands over the wound, attempting to keep it closed, but not before she spotted Will Scarlet staring at the patient in horror.

A gurney was quickly rolled over, and Emma shouted, "Scarlet, get over here and help me!"

Nurses helped hoist the patient on the gurney, and Emma climbed over and straddled him, still keeping her grip firmly on the wound.

"Call the O.R. and tell them we're coming, and page Dr. Chung!" Emma ordered, and the others dutifully ran off to complete her demands. "Will, let's go!" Emma called, focused on the patient. When Will didn't appear beside her, Emma flicked her gaze toward the intern, who was still frozen, eyes widened in horror.

"Will!" Emma shouted, desperate to get the patient to an O.R. as quickly as possible. "Push the damn gurney!"

Will seemed to snap out of his reverie and rushed toward her, gripping the gurney and hurriedly running toward an elevator, snapping at the people inside to hold the doors open.

"Hurry," Emma said worriedly. "I'm not sure if I can keep this wound closed much longer," she confessed.

Of course, due to her luck, the elevator stopped at every floor with Will frantically slamming his hand against the 'door close' button before the doors even slid open. Finally, after what seemed like forever, they reached the O.R. floor, and Will quickly wheeled Emma and the unconscious and wounded patient into O.R. three, where Mulan was prepped and ready.

Running through the scrub room, the automatic doors opened for Emma and Will, and the intern handed off the gurney that Emma was still perched on to a few scrub nurses, who guided the wheeled contraption into the center of the room where Mulan was standing.

"Emma, scrub in," Dr. Chung instructed, and Emma hopped off the patient, Mulan immediately covering the wound with her own hands once Emma let him go. "Will, get out of my face," Dr. Chung said to the intern without even a glance in his direction.

"I… I thought it was superficial," Will stuttered, fear and painful horror etched on his nervous and shocked features. His hands were shaking and he seemed unable to move, frozen and as still as a marble Greek statue. Fury hit Emma in a wave as she realized what he was implying.

"Did you not run tests?" Emma asked angrily, her eyes flashing with danger. Will blinked at her, his wide hazel eyes painted with guilt. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly like a lost animal, searching for words to say.

"Goddammit, Scarlet!" Emma shouted, completely overcome with rage, unmerciful wrath laced in her voice. "Leave, now," she growled, glaring at him with so much burning ferocity she was surprised he didn't burst into flames at the spot.

"I – I – " Will scrambled, words tumbling around on his tongue as he continuously combed through his vocabulary for excuses.

"Go!" Emma barked loudly, pointing her finger at the door, and with one last fearful look at the patient on the table, Will exited the O.R. visibly shaken.

Trembling with outrage, Emma marched toward the scrub room and violently prepped for surgery, tying her hair in a bun so she could slip on a scrub cap. Entering the O.R. once again, the scrub nurses slipped on an operating scrub cover for her and Emma shoved her hands in the gloves they had laid out for her, her palms still quivering with anger. Emma couldn't remember the last time she had ever been this mad. She had to admit she did have a quick temper at times, but this… this was ridiculous. The longer she stared at the patient, the angrier she got.

_Careless, reckless, and irresponsible…_

As she approached the man who was prepped and now under anesthesia, Dr. Chung glanced up at her.

"Are you sure you can participate in this procedure?" Mulan asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Yes," Emma breathed, shaking herself in an attempt to calm down.

"Focus all your energy on this patient," Mulan reminded her. "This surgery should be the only thing on your mind."

"I'm fine," Emma reassured the attending, composing herself and steadying her hands. She could do this. It was her intern, her mistake to fix. She would put a hold on her temper and unleash her wrath later; this surgery was the most important thing right now.

"Okay," Mulan nodded, and then held out her hand to a scrub nurse. "Scalpel."

* * *

><p>"His friends were called and are in the waiting room," Mulan informed, slipping off her gloves and placing them in the trash. "Do you want to come with me to update them?"<p>

The bike victim had survived with flying colors; it was a long and complex surgery, but luckily the man had come in early enough before the wound was too severe and unsalvageable. Although Emma did enjoy delivering good news to patients' loved ones, as it made her forget momentarily how awful the world could be, she couldn't accompany Mulan to this one. Not today, not this time.

Anger flooding back into her, she ripped off her scrub cover and threw it in the trash, violently untying her scrub cap, causing her bun to come undone and fall back into a ponytail. Hands balled into fists and teeth gritted, she made her way to the door.

"No," Emma snarled, Will's cocky face while he was in the E.R. running through her mind. "I need to talk to my intern."

Mulan scoffed, a smirk spreading across her face as she calmly took off her own scrub cap, her demeanor the complete opposite of Emma's.

"Good luck," she said.

"You mean good luck for him," Emma growled, shrugging on her white coat. She heard Mulan's resounding laugh as she stormed out of the O.R., slamming her fist against the elevator button as soon as she reached the contraption. Outrage was radiating off her, and a few people even stepped back. She could not believe this. Could _not. _She had never met anyone so filled with pride and arrogance, someone so unbelievably self-righteous that they would brush off the severity of another person's injuries just because they were filled with immense egotism and narcissism. Sure, it seemed that he had learned his lesson once he saw the patient throwing up blood all over the linoleum floor, but the fact that it had to come to that was ridiculous and unacceptable. He would not get away with almost killing a patient, not as long as she was his resident.

Her anger only increasing as she rode down toward the main floor, she stomped out of the elevator, hands balled into fists, knuckles white and nails digging painfully into her palms. She spotted Scarlet in a huddle with the other three interns looking nervous and worried. Ruby had her arms folded, eyebrows furrowed as she drank in his stuttering speech, and Killian and Robin were staring at him intently.

"Scarlet!" Emma shouted at the top of her lungs as she barged toward him, and she could feel everyone in the area turn their heads toward her. She didn't care. Her attention was only on Will's fearful and panicked expression as the intern stared at her. "Who the _hell _do you think you are?"

Ruby pushed him toward Emma, and Will tripped over his own feet as he stumbled over to her.

Will gulped. "Dr. Swan, I'm s – "

"Shut your mouth!" Emma ordered loudly. "I'm talking! You deliberately disobeyed me!" Emma snapped, her chest rising up and down furiously. "I told you to perform tests, I told you to rule out every possible complication, and you ignored my instructions completely! What if he was so far gone he couldn't make it over here?" She growled, and more panic flooded across Will's face. "You would have had a dead man on your hands because you were too lazy to even attempt at saving his life!" Emma yelled.

"I – I – " Will stammered, faltering at her dangerous scowl.

"What you did was unacceptable," Emma snarled. "I am your resident, you listen to what I say, you follow my orders! Contrary to what you may believe, you do not know everything. You are not experienced enough to make certain calls, but I am, which means you do what I tell you to! You are lucky I don't kick your ass out of this program right now!" Emma threatened ruthlessly, and all the color drained out of Will's entire being. "You're stuck charting all day," Emma growled. "Hopefully you don't mess up that simple task and almost kill someone."

Whipping around, her ponytail swinging violently behind her, Emma stomped in the direction of the resident changing room, heart beating fast and pounding in her ears. She threw the door open angrily and the wood slammed against the wall loudly. Elsa was sitting on a bench, and gazed up at Emma.

"I heard what happened," Elsa said sympathetically. "You seriously kicked his ass."

"How did you know I told him off?" Emma asked, trying to calm herself as she plopped down next to her friend.

"Because I know you," Elsa smiled with amusement, her eyes glittering. "Also, I could hear you from here."

"Seriously?" Emma asked, widening her eyes in surprise. She knew she was loud, but she didn't think anyone could hear her speech from that far away. A bit of embarrassment crept into her bloodstream, along with a slight bit of guilt. If she felt a bit ashamed, Will must be mortified.

Emma groaned, leaning over and burying her face in her hands. "Why do I feel guilty?" Emma sighed after a few moments, frustrated at herself for feeling humiliated, along with her actions toward Scarlet. She imagined Will's terrified face and couldn't help but be brought back to her own intern year, where she was helpless and nervous and constantly trying to impress her resident in order to gain more surgeries and a powerful reputation. Will was careless and cocky, putting on a narcissistic façade, but Emma realized it masked his insecurity. She should know.

He was aching to prove himself, attempting to please and impress everyone at the hospital. His resident screaming at him in front of everybody probably destroyed him, but not as much as seeing his dying patient on the table. Emma saw his face, and empathized with the feeling. Being humiliated in front of a large crowd? That was one thing. But seeing someone hurt due to a misdiagnosis? Way, way worse.

Emma wished her temper hadn't consumed her so she could have come to this realization earlier. God, could she be annoyingly impulsive at times.

"Because you're a good person," Elsa reassured her with a sympathetic smile.

"Ugh," Emma groaned lifting up her head and letting out a long sigh. "I need to apologize."

"Well, you don't need to," Elsa responded. "I mean, he screwed up. He has every right to be yelled at."

"Yeah, but he's my intern. I should have kept a closer eye on him." Emma gave Elsa a pointed look.

"It wasn't your fault," Elsa replied. "A reckless intern isn't your fault. He's training to become a doctor, he should know to be thorough."

"I know," Emma agreed. "But still… I could have scolded him in private." Emma gave Elsa a small, guilty smile, her green eyes glittering.

Elsa laughed, placing her hand on Emma's shoulder. "True," she giggled.

"I can't go back out there right now," Emma sighed after their laughter had died down. "I should probably compose myself."

"I don't have any surgeries planned, so I'll stay with you," Elsa offered. "Besides, people are probably going to grill me about you, and I don't want to deal with that." After a moment, Elsa asked, "Do you want to dance it out?"

"Not really," Emma denied. "Right now I just want to collapse on the floor and do nothing for a while."

"I can do that," Elsa responded, and lay down on the ground spread-eagled. Emma laughed and joined her friend on the floor, the two of them giggling. Thankfully, Elsa steered the conversation away from the recent shouting match, which Emma appreciated. The two girls chatted about numerous subjects, from David's hilarious infatuation with his girlfriend, Mary Margaret, to Graham's weird habits in bed, and of course the perfection of the Chinese place down the street from Elsa's apartment.

After deciding on mouth-watering chicken and wantons for dinner, Emma's pager went off.

"It's Mulan," Emma glanced down at the device. "She probably wants me to do the post-op notes." She met her friend's gaze, and Elsa gave her a reassuring smile.

"You can do it," Elsa said, referring to Emma's inevitable apology.

"Yeah," Emma sighed quietly, and then reluctantly pulled herself up from the floor. "Go do something," she called to Elsa. "You look weird lying on the floor all by yourself."

Elsa laughed. "Shut up!"

Emma grinned and headed over to the main counter where Aurora was positioned behind a computer. The pretty brunette smiled at her, Aurora's brown locks curling perfectly around her gentle face. Her eyes shone with kindness, and her lips were curled in a gorgeous smile, revealing her straight pearl teeth. Aurora's beauty was effortless and completely natural, and Emma couldn't help the slight feeling of envy that ran through her veins.

"Hi, Aurora," she smiled. "Mulan paged me here?"

"Yes," she responded. "Here are the post-op notes for Viper."

"Viper?" Emma smirked, eyebrows raised as she took the chart that the nurse handed her.

Aurora chuckled. "Are you really surprised?"

Emma shook her head with a smile as she opened the chart. "Honestly? No."

Aurora giggled and returned back to her work, and Emma began scribbling on Viper's post-op information. After a while, she spotted her interns across the room. Will was collecting charts and papers to complete, focused and diligent, while the other three were crowded around trying to comfort him. Scarlet ignored all of them, intent on following orders, most likely to avoid another confrontation and to make up for his mistake, and Emma sighed.

"Scarlet," Emma called, and the four interns' heads snapped up. Will clutched the objects in his hands, fearful, and more guilt hit Emma. "Get over here," she ordered.

Before she could even blink, Will appeared in front of her, posture perfect while radiating nervousness. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Robin, Killian, and Ruby inch toward them slightly in an attempt to eavesdrop and overhear the conversation, and Emma rolled her eyes.

Giving Will her undivided attention, she stated, "I'm sorry."

Will blinked, completely shocked. "What?" He replied, confused and still scared, as if he was expecting her to start yelling again. In her peripheral vision, she could see the other interns freeze with awe at her apology, and she suppressed an irritated groan.

"I'm sorry for blowing up at you," she repeated. "Like I said, you're inexperienced and just starting out. You're bound to make mistakes. God knows I wasn't perfect when I was an intern. Hell, I'm still not," she snorted, scoffing at herself. "But you need to get off that pedestal you put yourself on and get back down to the ground," she instructed sternly. "When I tell you to do something, you do it. You're lucky that patient didn't die today." Will's face paled at the implication, and Emma continued her speech. "You're just starting your intern year, and you have a lot to learn. You have talent, you do, but you don't know nearly everything you need to," Emma insisted. Will was still blinking at her with disbelief and she tapped her pen against the counter as she decided on a punishment.

"You'll be charting and doing post-op notes for the next week, and suturing the week after that," she reported. "Once those two weeks are finished, I'll allow you to get on surgical cases." With a warning glare, Emma threatened, "Don't defy me again."

Will nodded fervently, a thankful look on his features as he radiated relief, color slowly returning to his pale face. "Yes, Dr. Swan," he insisted. "Thank yeh, thank yeh so much."

Emma gave him a nod and a tight-lipped smile before turning back to her post-op notes, continuing to scribble and fill out the paperwork. After a moment, she felt a gaze on her and she glanced to her side, only to be greeted with Will still staring at her as if waiting for instructions.

"Go." Emma waved him off, and he rushed away, hurrying around the hospital and grabbing the biggest stack of charts behind the counter, running off to finish them. The interns followed him, but not before Killian gave her a glance she couldn't quite read. She couldn't tell if it was admiration, or confusion, or surprise… either way, it made her flustered and uncomfortable, and she quickly turned her attention back to her assigned task. The next time she looked up, Killian was gone, and she felt a tad bit lonely; which made no sense whatsoever, but thankfully was interrupted by David appearing beside her.

"Hey," he greeted. "So you and Elsa are stopping for takeout after our shift's over?" He inquired.

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "We'll pick up some for you and Mary Margaret if you let us crash at your place." Emma smirked, raising an eyebrow.

David rolled his eyes with a grin. "Please, you guys practically live there anyway." Walking away, he called out, "Meet in the front?"

"Yep," Emma responded, trying to suppress a yawn. Glancing up at the clock, she was surprised at how late it was. Her adrenaline had apparently caused her to forget that time was a thing and that sleep was pretty much necessary. Scribbling the last few words on Viper's post-op notes, she handed it back to Aurora with a smile and made her way to an on-call room, where she collapsed on one of the beds.

Rolling over and snuggling under the blankets, Emma tried to clear her mind in an attempt to drift off into slumber. She had only had her interns for a few weeks, and already they were proving to be quite an interesting bunch. Her hopes at a calm and normal year were pretty much nonexistent now, and as sleep began to take over, she couldn't help but think that maybe a hectic and unpredictable year wouldn't be so bad. After all, she had never been good at avoiding trouble.


End file.
